


counting seconds through the night and got carried away

by segmentcalled



Series: if so, come on, let's go [4]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Coming Out, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Mature Competent Professional Gays, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/segmentcalled/pseuds/segmentcalled
Summary: Brian knows that, by most people’s standards, he pushes himself really fucking hard.Brian also knows that, even by his own standards, he pushes himself really fucking hard.





	counting seconds through the night and got carried away

**Author's Note:**

> _calling my name and i follow just to find you,_  
>  _i trace the faith to a broken down television, and put on the weather_  
>  \- [i wanna get better,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8twpQTna_9w) bleachers
> 
> sorry strongandlovestofic and highoctane i stole your mature competent professional gays tag but it is so good i want it to catch on

Brian knows that, by most people’s standards, he pushes himself really fucking hard.

Brian also knows that, even by his own standards, he pushes himself really fucking hard. But he can’t _not._ He has to — he has to do things right. He has to show he’s worth it. He’s the youngest of the video team by a good margin, one of the youngest of his coworkers, even both his boyfriends have a half-decade and some on him —

He feels like he’s scrambling to catch up, sometimes. Like he’s gotten in over his head and he’s trying to keep himself afloat and sometimes he’s just floundering, gasping for breath. He knows, objectively, he’s doing alright. That he can afford to chill out every once in a while. That he doesn’t have to keep doing more things than he can handle all at once.

He’s not sure what, exactly, tipped Pat and Griffin off to this. They’ve both been busy, too. Griff just moved into Pat’s apartment — Brian’s still with Laura and Jonah, which he doubts is changing anytime soon, on account of they can only afford the apartment right now with the rent split three ways — so they’ve been getting him moved in and Brian’s been helping too, when he has a spare moment to get over there, and they’re still juggling their regular work things besides.

Well. It was probably the shingles that caught their attention. Griffin pestered Brian into going to the doctor after he saw Brian shirtless — _it’s fine, Griff, it’s just some weird rash, it’ll go away soon — dude go to the goddamn doctor or I’ll carry you there myself and you know I’m not fuckin’ strong enough for that so please spare me the embarrassment._ It was actually, more specifically, probably the tweet Brian made, fully intended as comedy, about how it mostly only affects young people if they have jobs like lawyers because it’s brought on by stress but he went to work for the rest of the day as Funky Kong, and haha isn’t that funny!

But Tara approaches him at the end of the day and tells him to take a couple days to rest so, alright, fine. He’s got an idea floating around for a video for his own channel, if he can bug Laura enough that she’ll help, and — yeah, fuck, alright, he is tired, he wouldn’t mind the chance to catch up on sleep.

Pat catches him by the arm as Brian’s about to go out the door, a little windswept like he’d chased after him.

“Hey, what’s up?” Brian says. They’re usually fairly discreet at work — they’re not, like, actively trying to hide their relationship? But it’s not like they’re advertising it, either.

“I was, uh, I was wondering. Do you want to come over?” He’s speaking softly, as they start to walk together down the sidewalk. “Like, stay for a few days. Griffin works from home, he can be on call if you need anything.”

Brian blinks at him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I talked to him earlier. I feel bad leaving you by yourself when you’re sick. I mean, unless you prefer to be alone — I get that — but, like — I don’t want you to have to be, if you don’t want to be.”

And, fuck, Brian is so clingy when he’s sick. He loves to be fussed over. Loves to be taken care of. And Pat is looking at him so earnestly, with such sincerity…

“Yeah, fuck it, sure. I’ll have to stop at my place to get my stuff, though. Wanna come?”

“Of course,” Pat says, and gently bumps shoulders with him. It’s starting to hit Brian, how fucking exhausted he is, how much he just wants to lay down, and his whole left side hurts, and he wishes that he didn’t have to drag himself all over the goddamn place but, ugh, at least he can collapse when he gets to Pat’s.

Griffin comes as a package deal with a veritable fortress of pillows and blankets, and has been so kind as to make the bed into the most elaborately constructed nest of bedding that Brian has ever seen. He raises his eyebrows at Griffin, who is smiling proudly. He laughs and kisses him, because he is just so goddamn sweet.

Brian drops his bag at the foot of the bed and sits down on the edge of the bed, glances at his phone in case Laura replied to his text.

“You need anything?” Griffin says.

Brian sighs. “I dunno. I’m kind of in a lot of pain, else I’d probably want to cuddle. I might take a nap?”

“Okay. Tell one of us if you need anything, alright?”

“I will. Thank you,” Brian says. Griffin crosses the room to kiss the top of Brian’s head, and Brian tilts his head up to kiss him properly, linger just a little, before he’s left alone in the bedroom.

The sheets smell like Pat and Griffin; since they’ve moved in together, they’ve combined into a sort of _PatandGriffin_ that Brian both loves and desperately wants to be a part of. He pulls the blankets over his head and closes his eyes, wishing for just a whole lot of unlikely things all at once.

He wakes up slowly, gently, comfortably, to someone stroking his hair. He makes a rough little questioning sound and blinks his eyes open; it’s Pat, in the dim post-sunset light of the room, and he smiles at Brian.

“Hey, you,” he says softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Not, like, ideal, to be honest,” Brian confesses.

“We made dinner, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Okay. I’ll be up in a minute. Thank you,” Brian says, leaning into Pat’s touch.

“Of course, baby. I’m glad you’re here.” Pat leans down and kisses him, just once, so softly, so tenderly, that Brian feels weak in the knees even though he’s lying down.

Brian sleeps through most of the next few days. When he’s awake, Griffin or Pat are usually not far, like they’re on rotation keeping an eye on him. The two of them have set up camp on the pull-out couch in the living room, so as not to disturb Brian as they go through their daily lives. Brian would love to sleep with them, but he jerked away with such a pathetic little gasp of pain when Griffin accidentally bumped into his fucked-up side that they unanimously decided that it was probably for the best if that didn’t, y’know, accidentally happen while anyone was trying to sleep.

He feels — bad, that they’re fussing over him so much, going so out of their way for nothing in return — he’s kicked them out of their own bed, for fuck’s sake — but he voices something along those lines and Pat and Griffin both look so, like, sad? That he doesn’t mention it again.

It’s frustrating and miserable, to be pretty much constantly in pain and exhausted and just generally feel kind of like he’s recently been run over by a large truck, and the two of them are so very gentle with him that it aches somewhere deep in his chest.

But Monday arrives, like it always does, and he’s back at work again. And back to his own apartment, too. He’s successfully pestered Laura into helping him shoot his video, so he’s got that after work, and probably catching up on some editing, too, and he’s gotta think about _Gill & Gilbert_ and _Let’s Make a Music_ and _Week in Revue_ and whatever the fuck else and, god, his to-do list is fucking astronomical.

But he pushes through it, because he always does, because that’s what’s expected of him. That’s what he expects of himself. It’s just what he has to do.

* * *

Weeks pass; he gets better, of course, because he’s twenty-four and otherwise healthy enough and he can leave it behind well enough. He catches up on his work with only a couple nights staying up far later than he’ll willingly admit to Pat or Griffin.

Still, though, he’s stupid busy, hardly gets a chance to breathe, much less spend a lazy day with his boyfriends. Which sucks, a lot, because he already feels — well, he already feels late to the party in the first place, by about six months. Still isn’t convinced it wasn’t a complete impulse for them to bring him into their relationship, even though he knows they really do try to treat him as an equal. And now the two of them live together, and now even if he does see Pat every day it’s in an exclusively professional setting, and. He won’t lie. It’s taking a toll on him.

Which comes to a head on a perfectly ordinary Friday afternoon. He’s — they’re — someone, at least, has streaming plans later, is today the one where they’re all doing _Smash?_ He can’t remember. He has — no, wait, he doesn’t have _Week in Revue_ anymore, it ended last week, he can stop having random grips of panic about having forgotten it, he hasn’t forgotten _anything._ Probably. Has he forgotten something? Fuck.

Maybe he should — maybe he should take a step away before this develops into a full-fledged panic attack while he’s sitting here at his desk, right next to Jenna, because he super does not want to get into that with her, no matter how nice she is.

So he gets up and walks away, and if his breathing starts to do that weird hitch it does when he’s about to really freak out at least no one’s close enough to _hear_ it, and there’s the one phone room around the corner that’s pretty much the unofficial panic room anyway, ‘cause it’s only got one window in the door and it’s out of the way enough that probably no one’s gonna come in and find you crying in one of the chairs, which is great because that is the absolute last thing that he needs right now.

He drags a chair into the back corner of the room and turns away from the door and pulls his feet up onto the seat and wraps his arms around his knees and drops his head forward to rest against them and just. Tries to breathe.

He’s progressed to “whole-body shuddering” when the door of the room clicks open.

It’s Pat. Of course it’s Pat. He pulls a chair over and sits down next to Brian and says, softly, “Hey.”

Brian leans over so he can put his head against Pat’s shoulder. “Hey,” he says, and it comes out a little choked, because he’s been battling valiantly not to have a crying jag at three o’clock in the afternoon at work.

“Hey,” Pat says again, gentle, soft, soothing, and reaches up to stroke Brian’s hair. Brian shifts so he’s turned more towards Pat, wanting the closeness. “What’s going on, baby?” He’s — he’s surprised, to hear him call him that at work, even though they’re in a room by themselves that is explicitly designed for private conversations.

“Just stressed,” Brian mumbles. Pushes his face hard against Pat’s shirt.

“Rough week?”

“Mhmm.”

“Wanna talk about it?” He rubs his thumb in slow, rhythmic circles at the nape of Brian’s neck, right where it makes Brian absolutely melt.

He fully intends to say something about his schedule, the way he’s wildly overbooked himself for months, the fact that he hasn’t gotten eight solid hours of sleep at once in weeks, but instead he says plaintively, “I _miss_ you and Griffin,” and then promptly actually bursts into tears, which is fucking _humiliating,_ why do his stupid fucking panic attacks have to look like this —

“Oh, Brian,” Pat says, so quietly, and puts his arm around Brian’s shoulders and holds him as close as he can, with them being in two different styles of chairs at different heights. “I’m here, hey, hey, it’s okay, I got you.” His lips brush Brian’s temple, featherlight. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

Brian wraps his arm around Pat, clutches at his shirt, curled towards him as much as he can be without falling out of his chair. “I just — I — I feel so far away, I — things have been so crazy, and — and Griff’s not working here anymore but he’s closer than he was before but I barely get to see you guys, I barely get to see you outside of work and we have to behave ourselves here because we can’t really _tell_ anyone and — and I _miss_ you, I — I — I feel — fuck, this sounds so shitty —”

“It won’t. It’s okay.”

“I feel — left out?”

Pat gives a sort of punched-out exhale. “Brian,” he says, like he’s in pain, and Brian takes a breath to start frantically apologizing, but Pat keeps talking. “I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

Brian keeps his face against Pat’s shoulder, so he can’t see whatever face he’s making. “I didn’t say. Not your fault. I’m sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for. I should’ve — I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry, Brian, I really really am.” He’s petting Brian’s hair again, which is nice. “I know things have been busy, but we could’ve been making more of an effort to reach out to you. Will you come over tonight?”

Brian thinks about all the things he has to do. And then thinks, _fuck it._ “Can I please?”

“Yeah, baby, of course. You’re always welcome, you know that, right?”

He — he didn’t _not_ know that, but it’s nice to hear it said. Pat’s hand is warm and maybe a little sweaty on the back of his neck; his arm is a comforting weight over his shoulders.

They sit in silence together like that, for a long while, as Brian’s breathing evens out, stops catching when he inhales.

“Pat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m trying to do too many things at once.”

Pat hums in acknowledgment. “In what way?”

“Just. Too much for work, and for other stuff, and — just. It’s a lot. That I’m trying to do. All at once. I haven’t had _time_ to see you and Griff and when I do have any free time I’m too exhausted to do anything at all because I’m not getting enough sleep either and it’s — I — I don’t want to lose you guys ‘cause I’m in over my head?”

Pat gently bumps his forehead against the side of Brian’s head. “I promise it’d take a whole lot more than that to get rid of me. Of either of us. I’m — I’m so lucky to have you in my life. I don’t want to ever take that for granted. You mean so much to me, Brian, and I’m sorry if I haven’t shown that.”

“I don’t — it’s not your fault, Pat, I swear. I’m the one who hasn’t left a second of my life to share with you in weeks. I just don’t want to keep going on like that. Y’know?”

Pat nods, right next to Brian’s head; his hair brushes Brian’s cheek.

“I’m sorry it took me ‘till I had a whole breakdown to talk to you about this.”

“Hey, it happens. I’m glad you told me at all. And maybe next time something’s going on, it’ll be easier to talk about it?”

“Yeah. I hope so.”

Pat kisses his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. Do you want me to talk to Griffin, tell him what we talked about, or would you rather do that?”

“Can you? But, like, in our group chat? So I can participate?”

“Of course. Do you want — do you want me to hang out with you here for a while? I don’t have to start setting stream stuff up for another half-hour or so.”

“That’s okay,” Brian says. Truth be told, he feels a little anxious being alone in a room with Pat at work, specifically about being _caught_ alone in a room with Pat at work — they’re not even doing anything illicit, for crying out loud, but that’s hard to talk his anxiety down from. “I’m just gonna — take a couple minutes to chill out and then wrap up for the day. What time will the stream be done, do you think?”

“Gosh, uh, I think this one might go a little late. If you want to leave without me you can? Griff’ll be home. Or you can hang around and pretend to mod the chat, I won’t tell.” Pat gives him a quick little smile.

“Ah, yes. Clicking ‘approve’ on fifty thousand messages that contain the word ‘piss.’ Truly my idea of a good time,” Brian says, and Pat laughs. “If it’s okay, I might just leave as soon as I can reasonably skate out?”

“Of course.” Pat kisses Brian’s forehead. “Sounds perfect.”

3:56 PM | Patrick Gill  
@Griff: me and Brian just had a talk abt some stuff; he was having a panic attack. He’s feeling really stressed by work and he told me he has been feeling left out between the three of us & I want us all to be on the same page. He’s going to come over after work, I’ll be a little late because of the stream but I’ll be there asap. Brian if there’s anything we can do to support you please tell us ok? We are here for you

4:01 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Shit im so sorry brian. Pat is right, we are both here for you and i’m so so sorry you’re feeling left out. I care about you so much. Is there anything you need from me (or from pat) to feel more included?

4:10 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
you guys are so sweet thank you. ive been really head-down on work stuff bc i majorly overbooked myself and it ended up being too much, esp after i got sick  
i might talk to laura and jonah about putting lmam on a break idk  
i just don’t have enough time in my day to do everything i’ve signed myself up to do and also spend time with you and spending time with you guys is what makes things manageable

He has so much more he wants to say. That he wants to tell them. That he has no idea how to put into words.

4:18 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Honestly that sounds like a good idea. It’s good to know your limits and if that’s what you need i know they will support you 100%  
And so will we obviously  
Is the stream up?

4:20 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
yeah pat has been stolen away by the live video gremlins may he rest in peace  
i wonder if i can sneak out early  
pat if you see this and if anyone i.e. tara notices i’m gone tell her i’ll make it up monday  
like fuck it i cried in the phone room i just need to go home

4:23 PM | Griffin McElroy  
I’ll start dinner in a little bit so it’s ready when you get here  
Are you stopping at your place first?

4:24 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
probably not it’s kind of out of the way. i’ve got a toothbrush there what more do i need really. i will steal ur clothes

4:25 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Well I expected that either way

4:25 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
alternatively i could just go nude all weekend  
OOPS SORRY FOR TEXTING THAT WHILE UR STREAMING PAT HOPE YOURE NOT CHECKING YOUR PHONE ON CAMERA

4:27 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Lmao to be fair neither of us would object to that costuming

4:27 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
yea ur both horny af i am well aware  
aaaand i’m stopping this line of conversation before it goes any further off the rails

4:28 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Truly the champion of self restraint  
Let me know when you’re leaving ok babe?  
@ both of you

4:35 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
i’m omw now

4:35 PM | Griffin McElroy  
You sneaky motherfucker, leaving a half hour early

4:36 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
what can i say i just gotta go hug my bf 

4:37 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Awww  
I’ll be waiting for you with open arms <3

4:38 PM | Brian David Gilbert  
<3

Griffin is, indeed, waiting for him with open arms; as soon as Brian gets in the door and gets his shoes and jacket off, Griffin wraps him in a tight hug. Brian collapses against him, lets himself be held, as Griffin pets his hair and presses little kisses to the crown of his head. Griffin’s only a little bit taller than Brian, but he’s warm and soft and it feels good, to be close to him.

“Hi, baby,” Griffin says, and Brian pushes his face harder against the side of Griffin’s neck, like he can hide there. “Aw, hey, hey, c’mere, can I kiss you?”

Brian lifts his head and Griffin cups Brian’s face in his hands and kisses him, slow and sweet. Griffin’s enthusiastic, eager, just as willing to leap forward headfirst as Brian, which makes it all the more notable when he slows down, when he goes gentle and careful, treats Brian like some precious thing. They both like to tease, like to push — they’re awfully similar, in a lot of ways — but, fuck, it’s _nice_ to be taken care of like this.

“I made dinner, because I am a good househusband,” Griffin says, and Brian laughs and tries not to get all flustered by his phrasing — he’s just _like that,_ he just says these things, casual and lighthearted, like it doesn’t do things to Brian’s heart.

“You’re the best,” Brian says, and kisses him again, just ‘cause he can.

Pat gets home as they’re cleaning up, and they loiter in the kitchen with him while he eats. Brian can feel a Conversation hanging in the air over their heads, and it’s making him jittery, but he tries to relax. It’ll be fine, probably? He leans against Griffin and lets him hold him, trace his fingers over Brian’s arm, as Pat tells them about what on earth Simone said on air this time to make them laugh.

But eventually they make their way to the bedroom and Pat and Griffin, as synchronized as if they’d rehearsed it, curl themselves around Brian, press close against him. Brian closes his eyes and sighs and lets himself relax into their embrace. Pat’s hand slides beneath the hem of Brian’s shirt, stroking his fingers over his hip; Griffin idly plays with Brian’s hair.

Everything about Pat and Griffin seems to come so naturally to them, so easily. It’s like they’re two sides of the same coin; opposite but equal, inseparable, complementary. They even look the parts: Pat’s tall, skinny, dark intense eyes and chin-length black hair, scruffy and serious; he’s the very inverse of Griffin’s easy laugh and constant smile and soft short brown hair and blue-green eyes.

Brian can do the math: they’ve been together for about seven months, versus Brian’s two, and they’ve known each other a good deal longer than that. He knows they came together in a late-night confessional, one of those times when everything is so much that it all comes pouring out of you. They both tell it differently, who said what and who kissed who first, but the sentiment is the same, that they know each other so deeply that they couldn’t possibly want to be anything but together.

Griffin had stayed in Austin only a month after they started dating Brian. He thinks Griffin had been looking to move anyway, and maybe Brian was some sort of incentive, but it has to have been Pat that really brought him to New York. He’d been adamantly resistant to moving here while he worked at Polygon, and now here he is, sharing an apartment with Pat. The month apart had been — well, it had been something Brian was used to, anyway, at least to some extent. His most serious relationship had been over quite a long distance, and so it wasn’t hard to settle into a routine. He’d Skype with Griffin and Pat, all three of them on the call most of the time, whether Brian and Pat were in the same place or not; they’d text constantly, just to be saying something, just to be assured of the person on the other end of the line.

This… this is something Brian knows less well. Even when Griffin was away, he’d still had Pat here, of course, but it was still structured: this is when they call, this is when they Skype, this is when Griffin and Pat bully Brian into playing video games with them. But now they’re right there, close enough that Brian can go to them whenever he wants to, and he doesn’t — he doesn’t know how.

He feels like the middle ground. Some strange third party that’s somehow snuck in without anyone noticing too hard, that someone’s gonna catch onto any minute, see that he doesn’t measure up. He feels like he might, possibly, perhaps, be suffering from some wicked imposter syndrome.

But how could he not? Griffin’s a fucking _sensation,_ brilliant and talented and stealing everyone’s heart, goddamn Forbes 30-under-30 motherfucker who’s accomplished more than anyone rightfully should by his age. And Pat’s amazing, incredible, funny and smart and charming, and Brian’s been half in love with him since he first met him.

He wants them so bad he could die of it and might very well cry of it and it scares him, the depth of his feelings, the way he wants to hold them close and never let go.

“What’s on your mind, Bri?” Griffin asks softly, after they’ve all been lying there in silence for some time. He traces his fingertip over Brian’s cheek. Brian blinks; Griffin is studying him, like he can read something in Brian’s face. Maybe he can. Brian wouldn’t know.

He can’t figure out how to say all of it, so he comes at it a little sideways: “What made you guys want to date me? I mean, aside from being a good fuck,” he says, with a wry smile that might betray that, uh, oops, he’s not joking as much as he’d like them to believe.

Pat nuzzles his face against Brian’s jaw. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, is why. I never shut up about you. You constantly knock my goddamn socks off; you’re beautiful and talented and funny and clever and you make me smile, all the time, even when I’m being a grouchy asshole. I’m crazy about you, it’d be embarrassing if you didn’t seem to have a thing for me back,” Pat says, with a half-teasing little smile that gets a smile from Brian too, a real one.

“Also you’re cute as hell,” Griffin says. “And charming, what the fuck, I can’t even believe it. I don’t know how you did it, but I think you stole both of our hearts and it was very sneaky of you, ‘cause now you’ve got both of us and we aren’t going fuckin’ anywhere,” he adds, resting his chin on Brian’s chest, looking up at him. Brian reaches out to run his hand through Griffin’s short hair, ruffling it up a bit.

Pat and Griffin had super, super casually come out about just after Griffin left Polygon. Brian had encouraged them to do it, told them not to wait on his account, told them that he’s patient and it’s totally okay and he doesn’t mind. So Griffin mentioned his boyfriend Pat Gill on his podcast and Pat tweeted a picture of the two of them that Brian had taken while Griffin was in town, and Griffin had retweeted it, and that was that.

And he didn’t mind, honestly, genuinely. He knows it’s a long shot, to be openly queer and polyamorous and publically in a relationship with two other men — but, fuck, sometimes he just wants to post a cute selfie of the three of them to Instagram because they all look so fucking happy and he wants to share that, wants people to know how happy he is when he’s around them, wants to share the best thing that’s happened to him with the world.

He knows that, in the scheme of things, a handful of months is hardly gonna matter. That if they’re in this for the long haul, the five months of Griffin and Pat sans Brian are going to even out down the line. But right now, it feels like a _lot._

It would be so much easier to drag one of them in and kiss them instead of trying to fit all this into words. How does he say it? How does he say any of it?

“Brian,” Pat says, in barely more than a whisper, his breath on Brian’s neck, “I’m so, so glad you’re here. I love Griff, ‘course I do, but I — I really want you to know that since we’ve started dating you, I’ve been so happy. I look forward to seeing you every day, even if we can’t openly flirt at the office or anything, I’m just glad to be around you. You said that being around us is what helps things feel manageable, and I feel the same way about you. You’re so important to me.”

“Yeah, like, can I be honest? Don’t take this the wrong way, Pat, but I feel like ever since you came into the picture we’ve been, like, more balanced, y’know?” Griffin says.

“Oh my god, yeah, I didn’t want to sound like an ass, but I’ve been feeling the same way,” Pat says.

“Like, for real, though, I think we really needed — well, I think we really needed you, Bri.”

“Really?” Brian says, and doesn’t mean to sound so — disbelieving, or like he’s fishing for praise, or —

“Yeah, babe,” Griffin says. “You’re good for us. You make Pat not be so fuckin’ gloomy all the time, you’re not afraid to push me back if I push you too hard, you keep us both in check if we’re being dumbasses. Which is a lot, because we’re both dumbasses,” he adds, grinning at Pat, who scoffs to disguise a laugh. “You’re a great boyfriend and a great person and I love having you around. You make me happy, you big dork, and I’m really genuinely sorry that we’ve made you feel left out. Is it ‘cause we live together, or ‘cause we’re out, or…?”

“I dunno. Maybe both, maybe neither? It’s just — hard not to feel like I’m tagging along behind you, sometimes. Not because of anything you’ve done, or anything, I think it’s just a combination of the circumstances. Because, yeah, you’ve been together longer, and you’re openly dating, and you get to come home to each other, and —” 

He takes a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm himself back down before he gets too worked up. “— and I’m so, so into both of you, and it’s — there’s been a lot, y’know? I’ve only been working here since December. I’m still getting used to things. And I haven’t — I haven’t been in a serious relationship that hasn’t been long-distance in, uh, ever. Nor have I ever dated more than one person at once. And I l — I really like everything about this, but I’m still — I’m still figuring it out.”

Pat kisses his head. “That’s okay, y’know? I don’t expect you to be a pro at everything. We’re all figuring this shit out together.”

“You’re right,” Brian says, leaning into the touch. “I’m sorry for not saying anything before. I’ll try — I’ll try harder, next time. To speak up sooner.”

“Hey, no worries, baby, okay? I know it’s hard,” Griffin says. “But we’re here for you. Is there anything you need, that would make you feel more comfortable sharing these things with us?”

Brian considers this seriously, bites his lip as he thinks. “Can we try and sort of, like, schedule in a regular time when we’ll see each other? It would help me to have the consistency, and it would be good for all of us to just kind of regularly make a point to check in with each other, too.”

“Shit, that’s a good idea,” Pat says.

“We did it while Griff was living in Texas, so, like, I think it would be good to keep up with,” Brian says, supporting his argument further despite the fact that he thinks both of them seem like they’re probably on board.

“Hell yeah,” Griffin says. “We can compare schedules when, uh, whenever I get my phone from wherever the fuck I left it.”

 _“Griffin,”_ Pat sighs fondly, and Griffin shrugs, with that charming smile.

“Sorry, I’m cuddling my boyfriends, can’t move,” he says, and latches onto Brian with all his limbs to emphasize his point. Brian laughs and tugs him up into a kiss, which he intends to just be a quick little thing, but as soon as Griffin’s lips are against his he realizes he really, _really_ wants to kiss him more, and indulges himself until they part, breathless.

“Shit,” Pat says, softly. “Do I get a turn?”

“No,” Brian jokes, grinning, already turning towards him and pulling him in. Pat takes his time; he’s no less eager than Griffin, but shows it differently, slowly and deliberately chasing down the things that Brian really likes, until he moans against Pat’s lips and Pat’s hardly done anything but kiss him senseless.

“How are you so fucking pretty,” Griffin says, his breath hot against Brian’s jaw. “Look at him, Pat, he’s fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Yeah,” Pat sighs, pushing Brian’s shirt up so he can run his hand over Brian’s sides, his stomach, slide his fingers precariously close to where Brian’s dick is getting very interested in the whole situation.

“Shit, shit, okay, wait, hold up,” Griffin says. “Are we actually done having this conversation, or did we just get distracted by Brian being goddamn perfect?”

“I’m good,” Brian says. “I mean. I. I wouldn’t mind following up on it later, but right now, I just — I really — I really want you, both of you, please?”

Through some silent agreement, Pat and Griffin seem to communicate what exactly they’re going to do, because Pat drags Brian in to kiss him again and Griffin runs his hands up Brian’s thighs. He cups his hand over Brian’s cock and Brian groans and rocks against him. Griffin’s hand works at him over his pants, grabbing and rubbing and squeezing until Brian’s whimpering against Pat’s mouth. He could — he could come just like this, honestly, and be more than happy about it, but then Griffin’s hand moves away to undo Brian’s fly and shove his jeans down his legs.

“Brian, baby, can I suck your dick?” Griffin says, and Brian just moans before he can scrape two brain cells together to make words.

“Yes, fuck, _yes,”_ he gasps, to emphasize, and Griffin grins. There is some reshuffling of position, during which more clothing is discarded, so Brian and Pat are bare chest to bare chest. Pat likes to touch Brian everywhere, his chest and sides and belly and back and legs and ass. It makes Brian feel hot as hell, truthfully; Pat looks at him like he’s something really fucking special.

Griffin wastes no time; with no hesitation — and probably to make Brian react — he takes the head of Brian’s cock into his mouth and Brian, yeah, fuck, Brian certainly does react; he whines and his hips jerk of their own volition but Griffin doesn’t even flinch, just takes it, hooks Brian’s legs over his shoulders and fucking goes for it, and Brian doesn’t even get the pleasure of watching any longer because Pat’s kissing him again. It’s good, it’s so good, especially when Pat gets his hands into Brian’s hair and tugs at it a little, and Griffin’s touching him wherever he can reach.

It’s easy to give himself up to them, let them give and take what they want, because everything they do feels so wonderful. He’s breathing hard, making desperate sounds for them because he knows they like it and also because he can’t help it, he _wants_ this. They’re both so — gentle, so tender, touching him like he’s some lovely thing that they want to be careful with. Griffin’s mouth is — is fucking _perfect,_ as he steadily and methodically takes Brian apart. Pat holds him close, occasionally taking breaks from kissing him to press even more kisses elsewhere, to leave faint bruises on his chest and tease his nipples and then come back again.

He tips over the edge with Pat’s mouth on the side of his neck and Griffin goes with it, holds Brian by the hips and keeps doing what he’s doing until Brian’s finished, and then he fucking licks the length of Brian’s cock — Brian’s whole body jerks, with the overstimulation — and then sits back, looking very fucking pleased with himself. Pat looks up from where he’s working on sucking a dark bruise into the base of Brian’s neck and blinks mildly at Griffin, gives him an absentminded sort of smile, then goes back to his work, tongue and lips and teeth on the side of Brian’s neck. Brian sighs and tilts his head to allow Pat to continue more easily.

“Wow, thanks for the attention,” Griffin huffs, affecting affront.

“Fuck off, I’m not done kissing Brian,” Pat mumbles against Brian’s shoulder. “I’m having feelings over here.”

“Oh, feelings, huh?” Brian says.

“Mmhm. You’re fuckin’ incredible. I’m crazy about you,” Pat says, still not diverting his attention from his task.

“True. And fair. And me too. Want me to suck your dick, too, Pat?” Griffin says.

“Fuck, I won’t say no to that,” Pat says, turning away from Brian to look at Griffin. “If you want to, hell yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” Griffin says, and unbuckles Pat’s belt as Pat comes back to press his mouth to Brian’s collarbone.

Pat’s touch is gentle, running careful fingers over Brian’s skin, tender and explorative, touching him everywhere. It’s even better than that when Pat’s breathing starts to hitch as Griffin sucks him off; he grabs Brian’s thigh just for something to hold onto, and he’s less careful with his teeth, and he bites down hard on Brian’s shoulder against a whine, seconds before his whole body tenses against Brian’s as he comes. He’s gasping for breath as he curls back against Brian, his lips parted against the side of Brian’s neck, not kissing anymore, just resting there.

“Griff, you’re a fuckin’ champion,” Brian says, and Griffin grins up at him.

“Glad someone appreciates my talents,” he says, his voice rough, and Pat huffs indignantly.

“I appreciate you,” he says, not moving.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just superglued to Brian, I get it,” Griffin says, feigning dismissiveness. “Will someone get me off or do I gotta do everything myself?”

Brian gestures him over and Griffin settles against him, arranged so Brian’s the middle spoon, so Pat can hold Brian close and Brian can get a hand around Griffin’s cock to jerk him off and kiss his neck and shoulders and jaw and hold him close, enjoy the feeling of their bodies all pressed close together, even if they’re all kind of hot and sweaty, it doesn’t matter because it’s Pat and it’s Griffin and Pat is so steady and gentle and Griffin is enthusiastic and restive and gasps out Brian’s name when he comes.

The moment doesn’t last long, because Griffin is whiny and doesn’t want to keep cuddling while he’s got his own cum on his belly and, yeah, fair enough. They reluctantly disentangle themselves; Griffin complains loudly about every vaguely unpleasant sensation he’s experiencing as he turns on the shower, as Brian and Pat laugh at him.

Pat slings his arm low around Brian’s waist and kisses the side of his head, as Brian giggles and tracks down his toothbrush and snuggles up against Pat.

“Griff, don’t use up all the hot water, I’m stealing the shower after I brush my teeth,” Brian says.

“Shit, c’mon, I was gonna steal the shower,” Pat protests. “We are not all three gonna fit in there. It’s just a bad idea. Like, we’ve done it before, but we really shouldn’t have, I could’ve broke my ass.”

“True. Either hurry up and get in there with Griffin, or you’ll just have to hold your horses, I guess,” Brian says, and Pat gives a longsuffering sigh and gets in the shower to bicker with Griffin about their preferred water temperatures.

Brian trades off with Pat, because Griffin takes the world’s longest showers for no good reason; he has less hair than either Pat or Brian and just apparently likes to use up all the hot water in the building. But he offers to wash Brian’s hair for him, and it’s so fucking nice to have anyone do anything with his hair; Griffin’s undivided attention is even better than that. Pat hangs around, wraps a towel around his waist and hops up to sit on the counter next to the sink, just to share the same space as them.

Brian expects Pat to take the central placement in their cuddling arrangements, because he pretty much always does, but instead Pat gently nudges Brian to his other side so he can be in the middle instead. Brian looks at him for a brief, surprised moment, but settles between them nonetheless.

“Bri,” Griffin says, turning towards him. “Do you think you’d want to come out?”

Brian is struck completely speechless at this.

Griffin stutters himself into elaborating. “I mean, like, as the three of us, or I mean like whatever I guess like whatever you’d be most comfortable with, I just — I don’t want to leave you out, I’m — I’m fucking proud to be with you, and I don’t want any of us to have to feel ashamed of it, or have to keep hiding it, if we don’t want to.”

“You’d — you’d really — you’d want to do that?”

“Pat and I have talked about it some,” Griffin says, meeting Pat’s eyes over Brian’s shoulder. Brian glances at Pat, who nods. “Obviously there’s, like, some things we’d have to deal with — y’know, telling whoever we need to tell personally first, and all that shit — and there’s no pressure at all, I’m just saying. It’s on the table, if you want.”

“I — I do want that,” Brian says, quietly. “I want that a lot. I want to be able to tell people about you. I’d shout to the whole goddamn world how much I love you both, if you’d let me.” And then he freezes and makes a sort of choked noise when he realizes what he just said, and he starts to sit up and move away so he can fucking explain himself.

But Pat puts his arms around him, instead, pushes him back down and looks at him, dark eyes wide and — and hopeful? “I _love_ you,” Pat says, emphatic, looking Brian right in the face, and then Griffin is nuzzling up close to him and says, “Hey, I love you too, Bri,” and Brian’s not gonna, he’s not gonna fucking cry.

He buries his face against Pat’s hair and clings to both of them and if his voice breaks a little when he says, “I love you guys so fucking much, I’m so grateful for both of you,” well, they’re both kind enough not to call him out on it.

Pat tucks his face against the side of Brian’s neck — Brian had discovered a whole litany of little bruises that he’d left there when he looked in the mirror — and gives a soft contented sigh. Griffin snuggles up, too.

Brian should be more tired — he’s been exhausted for weeks — but they’re pressed so close together and whispering soft giddy excited _I love you_ s and fuckin’, giggling at each other, and exchanging sweet little kisses and smiling, god, when was the last time Brian smiled this much all at once?

_Patrick Gill and Griffin’s Cool 2018 Tweets retweeted:_  
**brian david gilbert** @briamgilbert  
new video on my channel with the boys @GriffinMcElroy @Pizza_Suplex  
**YouTube**  
it’s none of your business but we made a video anyway | bdg feat. pat & griffin

 **Griffin’s Cool 2018 Tweets** @GriffinMcElroy  
Apparently the only thing I go on twitter for anymore is to tweet about Pat and Brian which is actually way better than my former twitter presence

They’d fussed over what they planned to say for ages, even when Pat complained that he’d almost rather just say “hey, fuckers, the three of us are dating, fuckin’ deal with it.”

“I dunno, Pat, seems risky, you might accidentally drop a word and tell everyone we’re fuckin’,” Griffin says, which makes Brian laugh.

“Please do not tell everyone who watches my channel that we’re fucking, Pat Gill.”

“I don’t think it’ll be a long shot to figure it out,” Pat points out, putting his chin on Brian’s shoulder. Brian pats his face.

They record a whole video where they play it totally straightforward, just _hey this is a little bit of a departure from my usual stuff but we’re dating and here’s a little explanation of polyamory and all that jazz,_ and then they watch it back and unanimously hate it.

“‘Kay, Gilbert, I’ve seen your other videos, what sort of weird surreal shit can we come up with instead?” Griffin says, and so that sets Brian to real planning.

But it’s not so comedic as all that, in the end; it’s a strange blend of Griffin’s earnestness and Pat’s kinda-deflective silliness and Brian’s penchant for heavy post-production. They keep it short and to the point and it ends up less than five minutes of _what’s up we’re getting this shit out of the way so you can watch this instead of pestering us_ but, like, hopefully kinda funny, and maybe even kinda cute?

Brian posts it on a Saturday and then turns his phone entirely off. Pat’s phone and Griffin’s phone join the pile and then, honestly, the only thing to do is to distract each other from the impending dreaded swarm of Twitter notifications.

Griffin and Pat bicker over what movie to watch as Brian sprawls across their laps.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried about it, you’re not gonna be watching it anyway,” Brian says, and both of them raise their eyebrows at him.

“That’s some big talk, Brian David Gilbert,” Griffin says, and Brian grins at him.

(He’s right, though.)

Brian flops on the bed, later, and finally turns his phone on, and grits his teeth at the long scroll of notifications on the lockscreen. But. Shit.

12:12 PM | Simone de Rochefort  
U GUYS IM SO PROUD OF U!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

12:30 PM | Mom  
Just watched your video! Very good! Love You!

12:33 PM | Jenna Stoeber  
HELL YEAH

1:45 PM | Laura Kathryn Gilbert _to SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS_ >  
Jonah and i just watched ur video. Its really good!!!! Now u don’t have to stress about it any more!!! Lol. Poy bro :-)

1:56 PM | Patrick Gilbert _to SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS_  
Nice! Really well put together. Happy for you three!

2:18 PM | Allegra Frank  
I’ve already texted pat 3498573498 times and I bet you all have ur phones on silent or are just ignoring the shit out of everyone (FAIR TBH) but I just wanted to tell all of u like… hey congrats on coming out i know that’s probably been real intimidating but I’ve been keeping an eye out and so many ppl are being really really sweet. Which is good bc u deserve it <333 !!!!!!!!

There’s… yeah, there’s some obnoxious comments. Some obnoxious Twitter replies. Some people being confused or weird or just assholes. But as Brian scrolls through it all, he sees more favorable reactions than he’d anticipated. And, well, really, if he’s being honest, the people who matter most to him already knew, and already told him in no uncertain terms that they support him, so he can’t really find it in himself to be super bothered by the opinions of strangers.

Pat joins him in the bed, shortly followed by Griffin.

“What’s the verdict?” Pat says, draping himself over Brian.

“Pretty good, it seems,” Brian says, closing out of the YouTube app. “Allegra told me she texted you a bunch, so good luck with that.”

“Oh, jeez. I’ll talk to her later,” Pat says, nuzzling his face against Brian’s hair. “Are people behaving?”

“Well, no one behaves, it’s the internet,” Brian says. “But I think Laura might have hacked my YouTube and moderated the comments for me. Like, she didn’t say she did, but they’re all suspiciously nice and she does know my password.”

“Damn, your sister is nicer than both of my brothers combined,” Griffin jokes. “They’ve been sending me weird gifs all day, I don’t even want to try and decode what they’re trying to communicate to me.”

“Is that a _Please Retweet_ gif?” Pat says incredulously, craning his head to look over Griffin’s shoulder.

“Huh. I think so.”

“I hate the fuckin’ internet,” Pat grumbles, all bark and no bite. Griffin laughs and drops his phone onto the bed, pulls Pat and Brian into an ungraceful hug instead.

“I love you,” Griffin says, as a general statement to both of them. “I’m so glad I’m never gonna have to explain anything ever again and just link to this video whenever anyone asks me a single question.”

Brian laughs. “Yeah, yep, this video has the answer to everything you’ll ever be asked again, probably, for sure.” He kisses Griffin’s jaw. “I love you.” Pat wriggles over to push his cheek against Brian’s lips, angling unsubtly for a kiss, and Brian laughs. “I love you too, Patrick, you are both so silly.”

“Mm. Yeah. But we’re yours, and we love you,” Pat says. “So you just have to deal with it.”

“Good,” says Brian. “I think I’m gonna keep you.”

“You better,” Griffin says, “after we went to all that trouble —”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Brian says, laughingly and lovingly exasperated, and pulls Griffin in to kiss the smirk off his face. Pat snuggles closer and presses a kiss to the back of Brian’s neck. They settle together in a tangle of limbs and giggling and love, god, just so much love.

**Author's Note:**

> who knows man theyre in love
> 
> @segmentcalled on twitter, comment if you req letting me know who you are!
> 
> comments and kudos pay the bills. im needy


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